By Isa Ghani

Daily Titan Multimedia Editor

I’ve mentioned before how much I hate accents in America. I think I’ve also mentioned how I find food here too fattening and unhealthy, and how I find people here seem to just want to get laid.

I take it all back because I find I was wrong on all counts. Turns out, it’s just California.

Last week I had the chance to go to Austin, Texas, for a couple days, and I jumped at the opportunity. I got to experience barbecue ribs, cowboy hats, large belt buckles and, of course, the infamous 6th Street in Downtown Austin.

As a result, I’ve fallen in love with Texas. I’ve fallen in love with the South and Midwest, from Georgia to Kansas and back down to Texas again, I love it all. I love the accents, the women and the food.

To all other immigrants to America, or even Americans who haven’t traveled much, you have not lived until you’ve visited Texas, or at least the South.

I hate the Californian accent, with its incessant use of the word “like” as a verb, adjective and descriptive noun. But I love Southern accents.

I love it when people refer to me and my friends as “y’all” or call me “darlin’.” Oddly, it’s not strange or overtly intimate – it’s just friendly.

People are also much more polite there – they actually say please and thank you regularly, and mean it too. In California, people say, “How you doing?” in lieu of the word “Hi.”

I’ve sadly gotten used to this – when you meet a stranger in the street, both of you say, “Hey, how you doin’?” to each other and walk on by without waiting for a reply.

In the South, people actually wait for your reply, because they genuinely care as to how you are doing. It’s pleasantly refreshing.

Southern food is something amazing too. I have never had Texas barbecue before and for every other “Alien in America,” it’s something you have to try before you die.

Nothing can beat the taste of a big juicy rib, slow cooked for hours, smothered in barbecue sauce, so tender it melts in your mouth when you take a big bite.

OK, so it’s unhealthy as hell – it’s completely worth it in this case.

Plus, who doesn’t like a big meaty bone in their mouth?

During my time in the South, I also discovered my affinity for wings. Buffalo, Cajun style, honey barbecue – it doesn’t matter. They are all mind-blowing.

Nothing beats a meal of wings at three in the morning after a ton of beer (which Texans have a ridiculously good supply of), capped off with some fried shrimp and more barbecue sauce. If they would let me drink the stuff, I would.

And of course, there are the people. No boardshorts and wife-beaters here, from the second I got off the plane I saw two men in cowboy hats wearing big belt buckles. I knew then that I was in a completely different place.

But who cares about what the men are wearing when there are girls in cowboy hats too, with flannel shirts (I love flannel shirts on girls, especially when they leave the first couple of buttons undone) and Daisy Dukes, which I am told refers to denim shorts that barely cover a girl’s butt cheeks. My hat’s off to the “Dukes of Hazzard” for starting the trend.

Oh, and don’t forget – these girls end nearly every sentence with that sexy “y’all.” I was in country heaven.

Throughout the trip I was regaled with stories of sipping moonshine on dirt roads, riding in tractors and watching girls in skimpy clothing riding on real bulls (not mechanical ones).

OK, I made the last one up, but that’s one country fantasy of mine that has yet to be fulfilled.

Any aspiring travelers to the South should keep in mind that they don’t seem to like Asians much there.

I got jostled several times by guys in clubs and bars and even picked up by my shirt by a large man who thought I threw a ball at him.

So if you do go to the South, here are some tips on how to blend in:

Wear a cowboy hat. It doesn’t matter if you look like an idiot, Texans will immediately spot you as one of their own.

If you are in Austin, wear a Longhorns cap – that’s the big university football team there.

Just don’t wear it outside of Austin, fandom is judged geographically, not on whether each individual team is any good at all.

Constantly have a beer in your hand, it doesn’t matter what beer it is as long as it’s never empty for long. If you can act belligerent, drunk and loud at the same time, even better.

Talk about American football incessantly. I learned it doesn’t matter what you say as long as you support the right team – see above for details on picking the right team.

Learn one or two names of the best players, just sprinkle them into your conversations and you should be good to go.

If all else fails, be as polite as possible, be courteous, say “please,” “thank you” and “y’all” a lot. You should blend in fine.